


Someplace that Isn't Burning

by AndyHood



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya knows things, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I do not accept that, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, Little Bird and the Hound, Not today, Pack, Reunion Fic, Romantic Sandor, Sandor cares, Sandor is a total dad, Season 8, What Dany's dragons are really eating, everything will be okay, season 8 fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-01-15 13:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyHood/pseuds/AndyHood
Summary: "I thought you were going to someplace that wasn't burning?" came a soft voice from behind him.Sandor froze as distant memories of green fire washed over him, brought forth by a soft voice. A precious voice he once thought he would never hear again.SanSan reunion fic.





	1. Chapter 1

__

The North had changed. A harsh place to begin with, but these last years without a Stark at Winterfell has made it harsher, more suspicious of outsiders. Sandor had almost barked in laughter at the looks the fucking Dragon Queen received. The North would not bend as willingly as a love sick boy who wanted to get between her thighs.

Sandor had been staying out of sight at the Keep. He half expected to find the little wolf bitch’s fucking Needle in his eye and out the back of his skull like she had promised him. Though he would never fucking admit it to anyone but he was glad to see the wolf pup. Where ever she had gone, she now moved like a killer. He almost felt sorry for those still left on her list.

As much as Sandor detested liars, he was lying to himself. He wasn’t sulking around the edges of the Keep because of the unwelcomeness of the Northerners, nor the Wolf Bitch, and not even because of the Dragon Queen and her two fucking fire breathing dragons. No there was only one fire he truly feared now.  It came in the form of auburn hair and cool blue Tully eyes that sometimes felt as if they burnt him anew.

Lady Sansa Stark.

Despite all odds the little bird had managed to fly home after all. Sandor had caught a few brief glimpses of the girl. He had heard more than one man wax poetically of her icy beauty. But he dared not seek her out, to feast with his eyes on her missed face. Indeed he listened, listened to the whispers of the Northern Lords who regretted choosing Ned Stark’s bastard over his own trueborn daughter.

It was child’s play to follow the more serious ones who spoke of seeing if Jon Snow could die a second time, and slit their throats. The Dragon Queen might be worried about how little her children were eating . However Sandor made sure they ate good and proper during the night. His little bird had lost enough family, and even though he thought perhaps the cunts were right. Fools to overlook the little bird. She had learned the game of thrones from some of the best while the Snow boy was freezing his balls off at the Wall.

He would look after her, like he had always done, what he would always do for her and the little wolf. Even if that meant fighting one of those dragons. Sansa and Arya would not end up like their grandfather and uncle. He would do all of this in the shadows.

“I thought you were going to a place that wasn’t burning?”

Sandor froze as distant memories of green fire washed over him, brought forth by a soft voice. A precious voice he once thought he would never hear again. He slowly turned around and there she was, no longer a Little Bird but a wolf fully grown. The mask she had worn in Kings Landing was a tough as Valaryian steel, her emotions hiding from his eyes.

“Maybe, could be. Who ever thought the fucking North would burn,” he murmured. Repeating some of the same words he had said long ago.

Sandor watched as the ice seemed to thaw from her face, and a small but warm smile graced Sansa’s face.

“I heard that you were dead,” she said as she came closer to him.

“Big Bitch tried, and almost succeeded,” he said. Looking past her he was not surprised to see said Big Bitch watching them like a hawk.  “Was found by a fucking Septon.”

One petite eyebrow rose in disbelief and Sandor had to give her a look.

Sansa seemed to surprise both of them by letting out a slight giggle.

And for a moment Sandor saw the girl that she used to be, before the Lady of Winterfell came back. This time she looked at him with a guarded look.

“Will you run once more?” Sansa asked taking a step closer. “When the North is burning?”

Not if, but when the North burned. They both knew that fire was going to be their greatest ally against the undead. Sandor knew that, she knew that. But they also both knew what Sandor’s greatest fear was, and how crippling it was. Sandor would be dead twice over if it was for the cunt sellsword and Thoros. It seemed like one of those silly songs about knights. The Hound was born that day in the fire by the hand of his brother, only fitting the Hound truly die by fire at the end of the world.

Sandor chuckled humorlessly. “Nowhere else to run too Little Wolf. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Little Wolf?”

“Not a Little Bird anymore. You’ve grown, no more chirping.”

“And your not a dog anymore,” she said with another step forward. She was only a foot away from him now. “I can finally see the man,” she said gently laying a hand on his check, his burnt check.

Sandor froze for a second before leaning slightly into the touch.

She stroked her thumb under his eye. He saw the movement more than felt it. Once long ago he might have snapped and thundered at her for doing such an action. After all a dog that has been beat his whole life will snap at kind touches as well as bad. Now he held still and allowed this small and somehow innocent touch remain.

“I missed you,” Sansa said softly.

Sandor chuckled, “Maybe still a little bird after all.”

Sansa did not seem offended as she continued the motion. “Not a lie Sandor. I should have went with you that night the Blackwater burned. Might have saved myself some pain,” Sansa murmured.

Looking deep into her blue eyes, Sandor mourned the loss of innocence that had persisted their even after her Father’s death. It was completely gone now. Sandor had overheard the Bastard and the Imp discussing Sansa on the ride here.  He knew what happened to her, knew she had been caged by a beast much worse than the bastard king.

“Maybe,” Sandor agreed, “Could be that we both would be dead right now. Fucking drunk and full of anger, I would have gotten us killed on the road or did worse to you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered.

Sandor’s heart stuttered, even after all this time, after everything she went through. She still believed in that one truth.

“No little bird I won’t hurt you.”

Taking a chance, he slowly turned his head and kissed her palm. The skin so soft against his rough chapped lips.

Sansa’s hand fell, and for a moment he thought he had went too far. But her hand immediately slipped into his.

“Come,” she said pulling him further into the Keep.

Across the yard Jon was standing in shock at the scene he had just witnessed. He had been keeping an extra eye on Clegane when he could. He had seen Sansa approaching the Hound and he had been prepared to intervene if the encounter turned south. But he had watched memorized as Sansa and the Hound had been tender with each other.

“He won’t hurt her.”

Jon started, he hadn’t heard Arya sneak up on him. For that she just smiled at him before returning her eyes to the odd couple. They both watched as Sansa took the Hound by the hand and took him further into the Keep.

“How do you know?” Jon asked. He remembered the haunted look that Sansa carried with her for weeks at Castle Black, and the rumors of the Hound that flowed through the castle even to this day.

“Hounds can run in the same pack as wolves. Their fierce and loyal to their cubs, fighting to the death to protect them. Faithful and loyal companions to the people they choose.” Arya said cryptically before walking away, leaving poor Jon even more confused.

“What does that mean Arya?” he called out to her.

Arya just smirked at him and continued on heading towards the blacksmiths.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa led Sandor deeper into the Keep then he had ever been before. Into a wing that Sandor knew was the Stark family wing.  Sandor knew that he should protest her bring him here. But he dared not contradict or argue with Lady Sansa where every fool could hear them. He wouldn’t dare undermine Sansa in her home. He just allowed her to lead him by the hand into her chambers.

They were simply decorated, but had a warm fire going and a bed piled high with furs.

“Please sit,” she said motioning to a pair of chairs in front of the fireplace. He did as he was bid as she reached for a pot that was setting next to the fire. As she poured it into two mugs, the scent of lemons filled the air.

“It’s not Dornish Red, but it takes the chill from your bones,” Sansa said with a slight smirk as she handed the hot tea to Sandor.

Sandor couldn’t help but chuckle, “Smells like those lemon cakes you were always so fond of.”

It was comfortable to sit in the silence and drink the tea. Such a mundane task, but a moment Sandor knew he would treasure in the days to come.

“Jon tells me that you followed him from the Wall, to the Capital, and back here,” Sansa said finally, breaking the silence.

“Aye.”

“Why? You could have easily caught a ship and sailed away,” Sansa said gently.

“I’d rather go down fighting,” Sandor rasped truthfully setting his empty mug down and turning in his seat to face her.  

“Who do you fight for now Sandor?” Sansa asked. She needed to understand, needed to hear from his own mouth his reasons for fighting.

Sandor was a silent for a moment. How much did he admit to? Did he admit the truth he had been hiding from since the Battle of the Blackwater? A truth that he had been forced to admit to when he spent weeks recovering with Septon Ray?

Fuck it all, the dead where coming and he wasn’t going to go to the seven hells without telling this beautiful woman how he felt. He felt like one of those bloody fools from the songs she used to love so much. But he once heard that all men were fools when it came to love. Cocksuckers most likely.  He looked straight into those blue eyes as he said his next part.  

“For the living…for you,” he whispered. Though he wanted to look away from her eyes, he couldn’t. Not when he just bared the remains of his damaged soul at her feet. “I came North for you, only you. You alone have brought me to Winterfell. For you alone, I think and plan. To fight these undead fuckers so that you can live. Unjust I may have been in the past, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. In my miserable fucked up life, I have loved none but you.”

Sansa’s eyes slowly warmed as they gazed into his earnest ones.  They were so vulnerable at this moment. The most vulnerable Sansa imagined a man like Sandor Clegane had ever been. Sansa slowly slide from her seat to kneel before the big man and place a hand on his knee.

“Sandor, I have thought myself to be in love to many times to know what it truly feels like. I do know what I feel for you is stronger than anything else I ever felt. I have missed you since the day the Blackwater burned,” she said softly as she raised her hands to cup his face. “I used to dream that you kissed me that night. Prayed since then that your rage would be softened. Longed for your strong presence and your sharp honest truths. It took me a long time to realize the cruel things you said, were not said to be cruel. But to wake me up from the dreams and songs, to protect me as best you could. When Brienne told me of your death, I felt like Trant had punched me over and over again. I mourned you, wept for you, and prayed for the first time since leaving the Red Keep that you finally found peace.”

Sandor softly smiled down at Sansa before reaching down and lifting her onto her feet. “Great Ladies shouldn’t kneel, especially for the likes of me,” he said gently.

“Any other man would expect his lady on her knees in submission,” Sansa said in a matter of factly tone of voice.

“I’m not any other man Lady Stark,” Sandor said. “I wouldn’t disgrace my Lady by ever asking her to kneel. I would be hers to command like the good dog that I am, even though I’m one fucking ugly bastard, to kneel at her feet.”

“I have seen worse things than your face,” Sansa said sadly. “Experienced them to.”

Sandor growled lowly in his chest, “If they weren’t already dead, I would kill them all Sansa.”

“I know you would,” Sansa said seriously. “But I dealt with them.”

Sandor chuckled darkly at that comment, “Fierce as a Direwolf now, you’ve grown strong. I thought you handled the Dragon Queen beautifully when she first arrived.”

“Lyanna Mormont taught me something when I tried to flatter her about her looks,” Sansa said with a small smile. “Fuck them. A few compliments and women are supposed to fall all over themselves.”

Sandor smirked, “She’s fierce the little she-bear. Standing up to your brother during that first council.”

Sansa giggled, “The Mormonts are not ones to mince words. She was the first one who declared Jon King. What he did has angered many of them.”

“I’ve heard,” rumbled Sandor. The scars stretched near his mouth twitched at the thought of the men he had already slayed and fed to the dragons.

Sansa said nothing, instead stroked his hands. She didn’t tell him of the whispers Arya had heard. Men who her sister was going to kill, before they mysterious started to vanish.  If Arya had said she had a hunch of who was behind it all, but had yet to tell Sansa anything. However in this moment, Sansa was certain that the answer to that question was sitting beside her.

“What do you think of this new Queen?”

“She’s fucking dangerous. She executed Tarly and his boy with dragon fire when they refused to bend the knee. She wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms but doesn’t know how the Seven Kingdoms run, many just see her as a foreigner.”

Sansa shoulders slumped, “Jon thinks he made the right decision. But I don’t know if he made his decision on if it was best for the North or because he loves her. She reminds me at times of Joffery, demanding respect when it hasn’t been earned.”

Sandor stared into the flames, glad that they did not speak to him as he thought. He then surprised Sansa as he came to kneel in front of her. He reached out and Sansa slipped her small hands into his large rough ones.

“I will stand between you and this beloved Queen,” Sandor murmured softly for her ears only, well aware that walls can have ears. “I swear by all your gods, I will burn before she ever gets a chance to hurt you.”

Sansa felt for the first time in a long time, tears gathering in her eyes. Sandor Clegane, who spit on all type of vows, who feared fire worse than death was swearing to protect her.

“Sandor,” she whispered as a tear slipped down her face.

“Shhh,” Sandor hushed, reaching up to whip the tear from her face. He didn’t need to hear the words to know what she was thinking. He saw it, saw the walls she had built up, fall for him. He leaned up slowly, giving her time to pull away as he laid a gentle kiss to her mouth. The barest brush of lips, the sweetest of kisses that either had ever received. More tears flowed from Sansa’s eyes.

The last man who had handled her so delicately, like she was made of glass was her Father. Back then, she was a child. Now she was a woman grown, and knew the cruelties of the world. She knew the man kneeling before her was a killer, who once found great pleasure in killing. He could crush the jaw he cradled so easily, he could hurt her so much worse than Ramsey with half the effort. But she knew he wouldn’t, knew that he would never hurt her. Outside of her brothers, Sandor was the only man she could trust to not to.

Sansa leaned forward until her forehead was resting against Sandor’s. She gazed into his steely grey eyes, once again amazed at how they had changed. Gone was the rage, hatred, and the wine. His eyes were now like a caress on her skin, and were looking at her in concern.

“When was the last time you slept Little Bird?” he asked letting the old term of affection slip through his lips.

“The last time i slept restfully was when my Father was alive,” she whispered truthfully. It was the last time she had slept without nightmares. Most nights she spent hours reliving everything Ramsey had done with her, or new ones of Ramsey and Joffery hurting her. Those were the worst. Sansa shuddered at the thought if those two had ever met in real life.

Pulling away Sandor curled an arm under her knees and then her back and stood up.

“You need to rest Sansa,” he said. “Your people need you, you need your strength in these dark days to come.”

Sandor carried her gently over to the bed and softly lays her down on top of the furs. She smiles at him as he kneels and gently undos the laces from her boots before doing the same to his. Its chaste as he lays down in the bed beside her and pulls her back until their slotted together like two puzzle pieces.  His chest to her back, she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Her head was resting in the nook between his chest and the arm she was resting on. His other arm was wrapped around her belly, just resting there. Sansa never felt more safe in her life then she did her, cradled to Sandor like a precious treasure.

All the tension she carried melted away, muscles relaxing and she was surrounded by warmth that poured off of Sandor. As she started to drift off, she felt Sandor press another kiss to her head.

“Sleep Little Bird, nothing will happen to you,” he rumbled.

A small smile formed on Sansa’s face as she fell asleep.

At the sound of Sansa’s soft breathing, Sandor smiled. He felt more content in this moment then he had in all his life. He pressed his forehead against her auburn locks and closed his own eyes. The world outside her door could wait for a while.

The two figures were deeply asleep when the door to Sansa’s room slowly opened and Arya slipped in. As she expected Sandor and Sansa were together.

The Hound was curled protectively around her sister, and her sister had a slight smile on her face, even in sleep.  

Arya removed her own boots and crawled up onto the bed. Sansa did not move, but the Hounds arm curled tighter around Sansa’s belly and an eye opened.

They regarded each other before Sandor sighed, and lifted his arm from around Sandor stomach in a welcoming gesture. Arya slowly slid closer until she was nestled against Sansa. She was surprised when Sandor’s arm stretched out and laid out over Sansa and Arya, cradling both protectively.

“Go to sleep Wolfpup,” he rumbled.

“Shut-up Hound,” she grumbled as she closed her eyes. The Alpha of her small pack would protect her sleep, this she was certain.

The last thing she heard was the dark rasping chuckle of the Hound’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got to see episode 2 last night, and alas I was once again bitterly disappointed. I mean come on, the battlements scene would have been perfect if they had just switched Arya and Sansa out! So I present part 2 to this fic in consolation. I'm not an expert in writing romantic scenes, I usually avoid them like the plague, but I think this turned out pretty well. 
> 
> And after I finished the episode, I realized what will probably be the worst part of this season. It won't be the loss of the characters we have grown to love, (or the lack of Sandor/Sansa reunion) But the worst part will be if our favorite characters rise again and become part of the Night King's army.
> 
> Though I foolishly have hope that maybe episode three might have a Sandor/Sansa moment. Mainly because in the preview you here Sansa say having to look truth in the face. And that makes me think of the quote, “A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.” I don't think they ever actually said it in the show, but here hoping that we might see Sandor/Sansa somewhere in the chaos. 
> 
> But most of all I'm just hoping to survive the weekend, I mean Endgame coming out and the battle for Winterfell starting, it’s going to be a very sad weekend for the fandoms.


	3. Chapter 3

Jon huffed, just what he needed. Jamie Lannister and Dany wanted everyone to gather in the great hall to pass judgment on him. Yet no one had seen either of his sisters since the morning, since he had seen Sansa with the Hound and Arya heading towards the forge.

All he wanted was to curl up by the fire with the company of his sister, well his cousins he supposed. He was still having trouble processing the news Sam had told him, Jon Snow was a lie. He was not a bastard boy, but the heir to the Iron Throne. Aegon Targaryen, Jon didn’t know who that was.

He just wanted some normalcy in these last few days. Which was why he was avoiding Dany like she was the plague. The woman he loved was his aunt, and he her nephew.

Without even thinking he didn’t bother knocking as he entered Sansa’s room, like he had done so many times before he went South. Sansa rarely locked her door, she couldn’t stand being locked in after her time with Ramsey. He had come running every night when he heard her screams in the night.

Jon felt guilty, before he left Sansa and he spent many nights together keeping the nightmares at bay. Since his return he had been too preoccupied to seek her out or spending time with Dany. He would apologize to her before they went to this meeting. He knew she had her reservations about Dany, but they all needed to put that aside before the dead arrived.

“Sansa-“ was all he managed to get out before he yelped as a dagger was thrown his way.

Years as a soldier had Sandor bolting awake as he heard the door loudly open. He grabbed the dagger strapped in his boot and hurled it towards the door, realizing to late he had just attacked Jon Snow.

His sudden movement and the unmanly yelp Jon let out had Sansa and Arya bolting up in awareness.

Luckily Jon managed to dodge the dagger and the four occupants in the room were frozen in silence, staring at each other.

Jon mind was refusing to process the sight of the Hound lying in bed with Sansa and Arya.

Before Jon could consciously think about it, Longclaw was in his hands and pointed towards the Hound; who growled low in his throat very much like his name sake.

“Put it down before you hurt someone,” he growled, while moving to put himself fully in front of the girls.

It faintly registered to Jon that the Hound was fully clothed as were his sisters. However he wasn’t going to allow anything to hurt his sisters, not this time.

“Jon put the fucking sword down, the Hound hasn’t dishonored us,” Arya said with a roll of her eyes as she slinked off the bed. “He was making sure Sansa actually slept.”

Jon’s eyes swiveled to Sansa who blushed! Blushed! Jon hadn’t seen her blush since she left Winterfell all those years ago.

“It’s true Jon,” Sansa said leaning around Sandor. “Sandor would never hurt me, or Arya.”

Ever so slowly, Jon put down the sword though his eyes kept jumping between the three. He was missing the story behind all this. He knew that the Hound must have been with Sansa at the Red Keep, but he had been Joffrey’s sworn shield. Sansa never discussed her time in the Capital, her time with Ramsey seemingly overpowering the awful memories of before.

Now Jon wished he had asked, wished he had the time to listen to both his sisters on their connection to this huge scarred man.

However he had no time, and he knew that the long he made Dany wait, the more angry she would become. She had made no secret that she wanted to burn the man for what he did to his family.

Some of his weariness must have poked through because Sansa’s blue eyes filled with concern.

“What is it?”

“Jamie Lannister arrived at the gates without the army that was promised. The Queen wants everyone gathered to decide what should be done to him.”

Sansa temper flared, how dare that woman make demands in her home! She felt her mask slip back into place.

“We’ll be right out Jon,” Sansa intoned, all trace of sleepiness, warmth, and concern she had displayed was gone.

Jon looked pained as he gazed at Sansa, but left the room Arya following quickly behind.

Sandor stayed on the bed as Sansa gracefully unfolded herself and went to her vanity where she straightened he cloths and hair. When she was done she turned to Sandor, and she set aside the mask and reached out with her hands. Sandor didn’t hesitate to grasp them in her own. Sansa tugged on him until he was standing.

“Stay with me, until the fight begins?” asked Sansa gripping Sandor’s hands tightly.

“Aye Sansa, I will stay with you until it becomes time,” Sandor rasped.

Sansa allowed herself one more smile as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his lips once more. Sandor’s hand came up to bury itself in her soft hair, simply resting there. They gently kissed, neither pushing for more even though Sandor wanted nothing more than to plunder her mouth.

But he restrained himself from taking no more than what was given. He knew without her fully telling him. He had heard the stories, had heard she was broken in rough. One look in her eyes was enough to confirm it. Her eyes were like those men who survived torture, the eyes of the women who survived his brother after he raped them.

He wouldn’t dare push for anything  Sansa wasn’t ready for, he would sooner cut off his own balls. Time and pain had changed him from the man he once was. His unstoppable rage had been quelled and these gentle moments came more easily to him. Much more he found himself wanting to be gentle with her. She deserved to know the gentleness a man possessed.

Reluctantly he broke the kiss and gentle bumped his nose with hers.

“Lets go see the fucking Lion.”

Sansa led the way, Sandor two steps back to her left.

When they reached the keep, Sandor went to stand off to the side by the wall while Sansa gracefully lowered herself in the seat to the right of the Queen, who had put herself in the Lords chair.

From the moment she spoke, it was clear the Dragon Queen wanted Lannister’s head, and so did his blood thirsty wolf. He was surprised when the big bitch stood and defended him.

Though Jamie was a cunt, he was a season warrior and commander. He was too valuable for the fight to come to just kill for vengeance sake.

He always wondered why the golden lion kept quiet on why he had killed the King. Jamie had once telling him when he was deep in his cups. He could have been hailed as the biggest hero of the Kingdoms, the stuff they wrote songs about. But instead he kept quiet that he saved King’s Landing and every single person that lived in it.

If his sister wasn’t involved, Jamie Lannisters moral compass could point in the right direction, but Cersai had always been his weakness. And loath as he was to admit it, they needed a skilled fighter like him. If having Jamie Lannister was the difference between keeping his family alive or them dying in this war Sandor was going to take that chance.

With a sigh he pushed himself from the wall and stepped forward. Jon and Sansa immediately sat a little straighter.

 Dany had never shown much interest in the large man in his company, and Jon had never felt the need to identify the man as Gregor’s brother. Jon didn’t know how deep Sansa’s affection ran for this man, but from the scene he walked in on, he knew he was important to her.

“You have something to say in Ser Jamie’s defense Sandor?” Jon asked, with a meaningful look at the man.

“The Lion can fucking defend himself on his past actions,” rasped Sandor. “But I have fought many times at his side, and though he might be a worthless cunt with one hand. He learned at the knee of one of the greatest strategists of our lifetime. He’s a better asset alive then dead, and if we survive then you can execute him then.”

“You fought on the Lannister side?” Daenerys asked coolly.

Sandor grunted, “They paid me well for my time. That was long ago though.”

“Sandor has proven himself a friend of the Stark’s, he protected my sister Arya for a time. He went with Jon beyond the Wall. Most of all he is a man who speaks the truth,” Sansa said. “If Brienne and he vouch for Ser Jamie, then he can stay.”

“What does the Warden of the North say?”Daenery’s asked turning to look at Jon.

“As Sandor said, we need all the men we can get,” Jon said, before getting up and leaving the hall. Taking her brother’s que, Sansa stood as well. Sandor could tell by the way she was holding herself, she was upset. Whether it was because Jamie was here, or how he had stood for the cunt Sandor didn’t know. But he did know that she would be waiting for him at the other side of the door.

“My thanks,” Jamie said looking at Brienne and then Sandor.

However Sandor did not want his thanks. He reached out and pulled Jamie close, pinning him with his eyes. “You so much as take one step out of line while you are here and I will split you open from balls to brains Lion and then feed you to the dragons,” he promised darkly. He leaned in closer, to whisper in his ear. “I’ve found they have quite the appetite for people who threaten the Starks.”

Sandor smirked when he saw that Jamie had turned a little white along the gills. He smirked in the way that pulled his scars menacingly.

He pulled away and walked through the doorway that Sansa had disappeared through. She was waiting for him. It pained him to see she had her mask on so that not even he could see what she was thinking.

“Do you really believe we need Ser Jamie?” she asked him in a neutral voice.

“Sansa I promised to protect you. I fought against the dead with your brother, almost got us all killed by throwing a damn rock. The only way we might win is if we have the better strategy. I’ve been a soldier all my life, fought alongside some of best and stupidest men. The man is a cunt, and stupid outside of war. But he is Tywin Lannister’s son and warfare was the one thing that man could teach the Kingslayer. Besides to your brother, he never lost a fight,” Sandor said simply.

Sansa lowered her eyes and turned away, clearly thinking.  After a few moments Sandor reached out and grabbed her chin, gently turning her head back to look at him.

“Believe me Sansa, if he so much as touches you, Arya, Bran, or even Jon, he won’t live long,” vowed Sandor as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I promise Sansa.”

Sansa closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, trying to soak in some of his strength. As much as she didn’t like it, Littlefinger had taught her to use her enemies for her benefit. And she trusted Brienne and Sandor to make sure Jamie didn’t do anything.

“I know you will Sandor,” Sansa said, her voice full of trust, but her face still in her mask.

Sandor tilted his head as he studied her. “Then why are you still afraid?”

Sansa shook her head and laid her hand over his chest right above his heart. “Because I was so afraid when you stepped in front of HER. She was already upset about Jamie, if she knew who you were,” Sansa trailed off. Her heart had stopped in her chest when her big man had stepped forward into the direct gaze of the Dragon Queen.

Sandor said nothing, unwilling to lie to Sansa. To give her empty platitudes that everything was going to be alright. But he did bring his arms up and wrap them around her lower back and pull her close to him.

They stayed like that for a few moments. It still amazed Sandor that he could do this. He never thought he would hold Sansa Stark in his arms and comfort her. In his fantasies when he held her like this he would already be balls deep inside her making her sing. Even the thought had his cock twitching inside his trousers. But it was easy to ignore it. He was content with any form of affection Sansa was willing to give him. There must be some sort of god out there to make this miracle happen.

Sansa sighed in his arms before pulling away, leaving only her left arm threaded through his right. He allowed her to lead him through the halls. Like he promised, he did not leave her side as she attended her duties around Keep. They turned many heads, the ice cold beauty of the North and the scared huge man from the West.

Sansa was thankful that everyone was too busy preparing for the attack to really question why Sandor was following her around. The only one to seem to question it was Lord Royce when she met in the library with him. He seemedreluctant to speak in front of him. But Sansa paid him no mind as they talked about the upcoming battle and the role the Knights of the Vale would play in it. She was surprised when Daenerys entered the library.

“I would like to speak with you alone,” Dany said look at the two men in the room.

Sansa dismissed Lord Royce with a nod, but did not dismiss Sandor.

“Lady Sansa?” she said with a pointed look at him.  

“I trust Sandor with everything,” Sansa said evenly. “Whatever you wish to speak to me about is safe to say in front of him.”

“He must be quite the man,” Dany said eyeing him. “I imagine it would be tough for you to trust men, given your past.”

Sansa barely managed to not flinch at the implied insult. A quick glance at Sandor confirmed that he was furious, his scars twitching madly, otherwise he stood impassively behind the women.

But Sansa wasn’t a scared girl anymore, and Queens did not scare her. “Trustworthy men are hard to find, as you might know.  I’ve heard Ser Jorah is an honorable, trustworthy man.”

Sansa was rewarded with Daenerys’s face flushing pink.

“But I digress. What did you wish to speak to me about?” Sansa said smoothly. “Please sit.”

Daenerys took a seat across from Sansa, “I felt we were in agreement with what to do with Jamie Lannister, before your people spoke up.”

“Sometimes we must put aside our personal grudges for the greater good,” Sansa said neutrally. “I trust Brienne and Sandor with my life. If they believe that Ser Jamie is a necessary evil, then I trust their judgment.”

Daenerys did not seem satisfied with this answer, and as their conversation continued. Sansa allowed honey sweet words to pass her lips, words crafted to seek out truthful answers. Sandor stayed quite in the background. But she knew he would hear the lie in her voice when she spoke of men doing stupid things for love. Lust made men do stupid things, not love.

When Daenerys smiled at her, Sansa knew it was time to ask the question that needed answering.

“What about the North?”

The question seemed to surprise the Dragon Queen. Like so many before her, she had underestimated Sansa and expected a stupid little girl. She was visibly angry when Sansa basically told her that the North was not going to bend the knee despite what Jon had promised.

Tension hung heavy in the air, and she heard Sandor shift behind her, tensing. Sansa knew that he was preparing to jump in between them if necessary. In that moment, even facing one of the most dangerous people in the land, Sansa felt safe. She knew in that moment if this woman ever dared to harm Sandor, she would rain ice and snow down upon her. There were only two truths in the world, all men died and winter always came. She would see that both came to Daenerys Stormborn before the Stranger came for her.

The standoff between the two powerful women was interrupted by one of the Queen’s messengers.

Taking advantage of Dragon Queen back being turned, Sandor took a chance to wrap his arms around Sansa and crushed her to him. He know understood the fear she had felt when he stood in front of the Dragon Queen. It fucking terrified him. He needed this to assure him that she was alright.

Sansa covered his hand with her own, she didn’t need to turn around and look into his eyes to see his fear. But she silently assured him that she was fine before pulling away so that they could follow behind the Queen to greet their newest guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...I thought this would be a two, maybe three shot and not a full blown fic. Now its turning into a Season 8 fix it. Because what happened the in the last episode with Sandor...I'm not accepting it. Nope, not going to happen and I already know how I'm going to fix it. So stayed tune for there will be more to come!
> 
> Also side note. I'm looking for a couple SanSan fics that I don't remember the names of but have been wanting to reread. I don't know if they have been deleted or moved to just a different site. Any help would be appreciated. 
> 
> They were both by the same author. Modern AU's.   
> First one, Sansa, living as Alayne Stone runs a diner in the Riverlands. She thinks shes in witness protection program and believes her family is dead. Sandor has lost both his eyes, and doesn't recognize Sansa when they met. He is roommates with Arya who is in a relationship with Podrick & Gendry. There is a lot of mysterious disappearance and murders. At the end Sansa risks her life to save the only picture of Sandor there is from a fire. This one was a completed fic. 
> 
> The other Sansa gets drunk one night on basically magic wine from Tyrion and Oberyns winary, and buys a house that is Sandor's old family home. Sandor drinks the same wine and quits his job at a University and wants to move back to his old home to find out from his sister that she sold it. He goes to talk to Sansa, they drink the magic wine together and get hitched within days. There is a background Jamie and Brienne relationship.


	4. Chapter 4

Seeing Theon again was like a punch from Ser Meryn’s fist. She hadn’t expected to see him again, much less here.

She felt her mask fall as she ignored protocol and hugged Theon tight to her. He was real in her arms, the last part of her family was here. “Your home,” she whispered into his neck. “You came home.”

Theon stiffened in her arms at those words before relaxing.

Sansa needed to know what had happened since they had been parted. Theon looked almost like the man she remembered from her youth. Sansa turned to face Sandor. She wanted to spend some time with Theon. But what they experienced at Ramsey’s hands, she did not want to share with Sandor. There were just some hurts she did not want to dredge up in front of an audience, even if it was Sandor.

Sansa turned to look at him, a silent question in her eyes.

Sandor gave Sansa a nod, he understood that she needed time with Theon. They shared a bond that he couldn’t understand. Even though he didn’t like it.

He wandered out into the training yard, maybe he’d challenge the big bitch to a rematch. At least this time he wouldn’t be weakened by exhaustion, fever, and lack of food. It should be an even match now.

He didn’t make it a few steps when he was attacked by a mountain of fur and beard.

“Dog!”

“Get the fuck off me you crazy fucker!”  he yelled trying to shake the other man off as his fur clad arms squeezed him.

The crazy fucker laughed, but finally let go.

Sandor glared at Tormund, although a small part of him was happy to see the crazy fucker alive. It was odd feeling that someone was actually happy to see him, well besides Sansa .

“Clegane,” came another voice that made Sandor groan.

“Dorrdarian,” he said turning his head to see him.

“I told you we would meet again,” Beric said with a smile. Another shock to see another living being happy to see him. After a lifetime of rejection, it was a shock and Sandor was immediately pushing those pleased feelings away.

Sandor grunted, “Is it true that the Wall fell?” he asked.

Beric nodded, “The dragon that was killed blew blue fire, that Wall did not stand a chance. The dead will be here by morning.”

“Fuck,” growled Sandor. It confirmed that what the youngest Stark had said was true. As much as he wished that it wasn’t.

“Makes a man want to enjoy his last night,” Tormund said, “Have you seen the big woman?”

Sandor couldn’t help but snort. “Good luck cunt.”

Tormund smirked, “Who needs luck when I have this,” he said gesturing at his cock before walking away in search of his big woman.

“Crazy bastard,” muttered Sandor. Brienne though she fought like a man, was still a Southern Lady and would not take to the wooing this Wildling would unleash on her.

Beric shook his head, “I’ve heard of little else since we escaped East Watch.”

“She’s going to knock him on his ass,” Sandor said with a slight smirk.

“I think that would make him chase after her more,” Beric said with a laugh, “But with what is coming all of us need to find a little joy in the night to come.”

Sandor eyed Beric, “I thought you would be enjoying this. Isn’t what your fire god preaches, the night is dark and full of terrors.”

“And so it will be Clegane,” Beric said softly. “Through the fires, the Lord of Light can light the darkness of nights.”

Sandor scowled at the other man, always with the fucking fire. Beric smiled at Sandor like he knew what the other man was thinking. Before taking his leave of the other man.

Sandor snorted, and glanced at the activity of the yard. It was still strange to see fucking Dorthaki and Unsullied this far North. Sandor wandered through the yard until he came to an interesting sight. Podrick fucking Payne using a sword and not fucking dropping it. The boy was actually holding his own against his opponent. Big Bitch was watching with a proud look on her face, and Sandor was surprised to see the Lion also standing there.

“You’ve finally made something of that boy,” Clegane rasped surprising Jamie and Brienne as they turned to stare at him.

“Clegane, who’s with Lady Sansa?” asked Brienne without preamble. He had to admire that about her, her dedication to his girls.

“Theon Greyjoy, she wanted to be alone with him for awhile,” he said neutrally.

A look of understanding passed over Brienne’s face, and Sandor had to cut back a small growl. Brienne had been there for Sansa when she escaped the Bastard. She had been there to help his Little Bird put herself back together. 

And with that thought in mind, he decided to give Big Bitch a warning.

“Crazy Ginger’s looking for you,” Clegane rasped.

He watched Brienne flush in front of Jamie, a little embarrassed clearly. Personally he thought she would do better with the Ginger. He knew Jamie for too long, when it came down to it, he would always choose Cersei.

“I must see to the defenses,” Brienne said coolly. Though Sandor had to smirk as her eyes started to jump around, clearly on the look-out for the Crazy Ginger. She retreated with as much grace as she could muster with Pod fucking Payne following her like a puppy. Leaving Sandor with the Lion. Sandor was surprised when Jamie didn’t follow after big bitch.

“Care for a spar Clegane?” Jamie said with a shadow of his old smirk.

“It has been a long time since I knocked you into the dirt Lion,” Sandor smirked.

“Probably before we left for Winterfell with Robert,” Jamie said drawling his sword.

“Past time then for another lesson,” Sandor rasped drawling his sword.

Even using his left hand, Jamie was still a decent swordsman, even though he fought dirty.

“That sell sword cunt of your brothers teach you a few tricks,” Sandor said with a rasping laugh.

Sparring with Jamie was like old times at the Red Keep, before everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. Back in the days of the long summer, where only Dornish Sour and a whore was all Sandor needed in his life.

But despite everything that had happened since then. Sandor wouldn’t trade a single day to be back there. Because back then, he did not have his little bird or the little wolf. They gave him purpose in his previous meaningless life.

Jamie seemed to enjoy it as well, neither man trying too hard to end it. But eventually Sandor knocked the sword out of Jamie’s hand.  

Both were panting, neither of them where as they young as they once were. And neither of them were in the shape they were once in. Like so many great warriors before them, they had gotten older and showed the wounds of those that lived by the sword.

Sandor was grateful for the skin of water that he had tucked into his jerkin as he took a deep draught before passing it to Jamie.

“I was surprised to see you here Clegane,” Jamie said as he lowered the water skin, “I thought you would be taking care of Gregor once and for all after that scene in the dragon pit.”

Sandor snorted, “He will, if we survive this fight. Gregor will finally get what’s coming to him.”

Jamie was silent as he studied him before opening his cunt mouth again. “A Lannister always pays their debts,” Jamie quoted the age old line. “You didn’t need to stand up for me. But whatever Qyburn did to your brother…well he isn’t human anymore. He never sleeps, never eats, and never speaks. He just looks at the world with those blood red eyes. Putting a sword in his gut won’t kill him if I know anything,” Jamie said softly.

Sandor nodded seriously. Like Starks with their honor, the Lannisters paying their debts were the only thing a person could count on. But there was one debt that the Lannister was refusing to acknowledge and that was the sword that was hanging from his hip.

Jamie clapped Clegane on the shoulder like old times, before turning to leave also.

“Lion,” Sandor called before Jamie could get to far away.

“Yes Hound?” Jamie said with a smirk, a bit of his old personality slipping through.

“I’ll be wanting that sword if we survive,” he said nodding to the lion head pommel. “Valaryian steel, your Father always wanted one for your family and then the Lannister family ended up with two. There was only one sword big enough to make two Valaryian blades. Ned Starks sword Ice.”

Jamie glanced down at the Lion Head pommel before glancing back up at Sandor. “My Father gave me this sword,” Jamie said with an edge to his voice.

“After he melted down a sword that had been in the Stark family for generations.  Talking about debts, what Joffrey did what your son did to her. You owe her a lot more than a sword,” Sandor growled.

“Holding her as ward of the crown is hardly a debt,” countered Jamie clutching his sword.

“Having her beaten by the Kingsguard, stripped naked before the court, left behind in the riots, and being forced to look at her Father’s head. Don’t pretend to be ignorant Lion, it doesn’t suite you.”

Jamie looked away in shame. He thought perhaps Tyrion was exaggerating, perhaps the court whispers where just malicious gossip. But the Hound was as blunt and honest as always. There was no denying the truth in his eyes.

“A Lannister pays their debts,” he finally said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it bugs me that the halves of Ice were never returned to the Starks, especially Jamie's so I decided to fix it. Hope you enjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

After the Lion left Sandor stayed in the training yard, helping the green boys and men, along with a few women. By the end of his drills, they at least knew which end to use and how not to stab themselves.

He was considering going back to the castle and taking a bath before seeking out Sansa when the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up.  Though he had heard nothing, he knew that there was someone standing behind him.

“You want something little wolf?”  Sandor asked as he turned his head and saw Arya standing behind him. Sandor saw a hint of surprise on Arya’s face before smoothing out.

“Sansa wants you to get your big ass to the war room,” Arya said mock glaring at the Hound. “Everyone is gathering to discuss the battle plans.”

“Lead the way,” Sandor said.

Sandor was struck once again by the sense of old times as he walked through the teaming yard with Arya by his side. When she was just scrawny little thing, who showed her good heart. Now she was less scrawny, with the silent grace of a killer, protecting her good heart by being a cold bitch.

It seemed that everyone that was deemed important was in the room when Sandor and Arya entered the room. It also seemed that they had been waiting for them as Jon cleared his throat and began to speak of the plans that had been drawn. Sandor listened as he moved to stand beside Sansa who grasped his hand under the table, out of sight of everyone.  She looked a little pale, but otherwise she seemed to be in better spirits than when she was taking to the Dragon Queen.

Jon needlessly explained their situation to the people standing around the table, before finally moving onto the actual important stuff. He was expecting the command that was given to Big Bitch and the Mormont, but was surprised when  Jon turned and looked at him.

“Sandor, you will take command of the troops here,” Jon said, indicating the wall of men standing outside of Winterfell in front of the trench. “You will hold that position for as long as you can. When you begin to be overwhelmed, retreat back to the wall and we will light the trench.”

Sandor nodded, while Tyrion gave a small cough drawling everyones attention to him.

“Do you think its wise for the Hound to be leading a party outside of the walls?” asked Tyrion eyeing the man from across the table. “Near a trench we will light on fire?”

Dany and Jon looked questionably at Tyrion as Sandor growled low in his throat.

“Speak plainly Imp!” he demanded with a glare.

“Well the last time you led a sortie into a field of battle you ran away with your tail between your legs. Or have you already forgotten the Battle of the Blackwater?”

Tyrion’s words of accusation hung in the air. Those that had been in the Battle of the Blackwater stiffened as memories assaulted them.

“I should have killed you that night dwarf, and fed you to the flames you dearly loved to fight with!” hissed Sandor leaning over the table at Tyrion.

“Sandor,” Sansa said quietly laying a hand on his arm before giving Tyrion a look. “That was a long time ago Lord Tyrion. Everyone here is not what they once were, all that matters is here and now. Sandor has had experience leading men, and was considered one of the greatest swordsmen in Westeros. As he said while defending your brother, we need all the experienced men we can get.”

Dany watched the back and forth with interest. Again this huge scared warrior was in the center of attention. And what had Tyrion called him, the Hound? She was sure that she heard that name before. But alas they did not have time for petty arguments.

“Lord Tyrion, is this man competent?”

Tyrion looked at the Hound before looking at his Queen. “Yes Your Grace. Before the Blackwater, he led a number of men. Despite his lumbering size, there is a functioning brain in there.”

Sandor snorted, “I wish the same could be said.”

The two looked at each other before lazy smirks stretched out on their faces.  Like with Jamie, a lot of history stretched between the Little Lord and Clegane, including the same old jokes.

“Well if we’ve  settled that,” Jon said pulling the attention back to him.

By the time the meeting was over with, the short winter day was over with and the night was falling. It didn’t need to voiced aloud that everyone should go enjoy this last night. In fact as Sansa led Sandor back to her room, they passed a number of couples embraced.

The tension between Sansa and him grew with each step they took. Sandor wouldn’t push for anything tonight. But the shy glances and soft touches Sansa kept giving him gave him hope for things to come.

When they entered her room, a large fire was burning in the hearth, and the furs were turned down.

Sansa turned in a flittering little bird, moving to and fro about the room, clearly nervous.

“Sansa come here,” he rasped. Sansa stopped her fretting and walked over to where Sandor was standing. She simply smoothed her skirts out and looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

Sandor gently reached out and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Sandor,” she said breathlessly.

Sandor smirked down at her before leaning down to kiss her. Sansa hummed into the kiss and returned it passionately. Sandor growled and pulled Sansa closer to him and deepened their kiss, before planting kisses down the column of her throat.

A little gasp, not one of enjoyment but of fear reached his ears, as Sansa went stiff in his arms. Sandor immediately pulled back. Sansa eyes were dilated in fear and her breath was coming out in short gasp. Sandor immediately let go of her and backed away a step.

“Sansa, Sansa, Little Bird,” Sandor called to her, being careful not to touch her. After a few minutes of careful calling Sansa came back to herself slowly. When she looked up into Sandor’s face, tears immediately filled her eyes.

“I’m…I’m… so,” she stuttered out reaching for him.

Sandor did not let her finish, and did not hesitate to gently wrap her in his arms as sobs ripped through her chest.

“It’s alright Sansa, my fierce She-Wof,” he whispered against her hair. He continued to shush her and run a hand over her hair, since touching her back caused her to flinch violently. Finally after serval long minutes Sansa calmed in his arms.

“I want to, with you,” Sansa said softly against his chest. “I know you would never hurt me. But he’s still there,” she whispered. “He told me he there would always be a part of him with me. And I can’t even do this with the man I love.”

Love---- That word stuck Sandor in the chest like an anvil. Sansa loved him. Just days ago she said she cared for him, but didn’t know if she loved him. Now she was saying it to him.

He gripped her tighter to his chest and buried his face into her sweet smelling hair. He loved her, but couldn’t say the words back just yet. She seemed to understand though as her own grip increased.

“You’re not broken Sansa,” Sandor rasped, “You were hurt like no woman should be. When Gregor…when Gregor burned me. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as a fire for years. You need time to heal, and my cock isn’t falling off anytime soon. I can wait.”

Sansa sighed.

“I’m still sorry,” she whispered.

“Shush, ain’t nothing to be sorry for,” Sandor.

How could she be sorry? She had suffered greatly at the hands of the bastard and of Littlefucker. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was alive and sane. Sandor never thought he would ever be allowed to touch Sansa, let alone hold and kiss her, to call her his. Yet here they were, and though his cock was angry not to be buried in her cunt. Sandor was content to just hold her.

“Do you wish me to stay?” Sandor asked after a few moments.

“Of course,” Sansa said immediately. “But perhaps not here.  There is wine in the keep, and a large fire to keep us warm,” Sansa said with a smile. “We can grab some and enjoy the time we have left.”

Sandor pressed a kiss on her forehead, “Lead the way Little Bird.”

Sansa pulled him out of the room, but instead of leading the way. She threaded her arm through Sandor’s and laid her head on his shoulder. Sansa didn’t care if anyone saw them, she was past being the perfect little lady. This might be their last night, and she wasn’t going to be ashamed of who she chose to spend it with.

Sandor gently laid his own head down upon her own, enjoying this closeness. He tried not to think of the future, tried not to imagine walking down these corridors in the years to come with perhaps the sounds of childish giggles and the yapping of puppies following behind them. A dream he never thought was possible. But here at the end of the world, facing the end of his days, the woman of his dreams was proclaiming to the world that they were together.

* * *

 

The group sitting around the fire looked up as the door opened once more, and were surprised by the figures of Lady Stark entering along with the Hound looking like a couple deeply in love. They both looked surprised to see the group that was surrounding the fire.

“Apologizes,” Sansa said, eyeing the odd group. “We hadn’t realized that the wine was already claimed.”

“Come my Lady,” Tyrion called, “We’ve still got plenty left to share, well not enough if Clegane wishes to indulge.”

“Strong words coming from you,” Sandor said with a snort.

Tyrion tipped his glass at the tall man.

“Perhaps one glass,” Sansa said after a shared look with Clegane.

They both approached the fire, Sansa went to the side table and poured two glasses of wine while Sandor dragged a chair over by the fire.

Tyrion and Jamie’s jaw dropped as the Hound plopped down in the chair and pulled Sansa onto his lap. Instead of protesting like any lady would, Sansa curled up and laid her head on Clegane’s shoulder and draped her legs over his lap. Clegane’s arm came around to curl around her waist when she was settled. Everyone except for Tormund looked in shock at the couple, the crazy ginger just grinned manically.

“How, when?” Tyrion sputtered, actually setting his wine glass down to gap at the couple.

“He looked after me at the Red Keep, even offered to take me away at the Battle of the Blackwater,” Sansa said looking at her former husband. “It’s grown from there.”

Tormund started to laugh, “I thought you hated fucking gingers!”

Sandor debated throwing his cup at the mad fucker, but decided it wasn’t worth spilling the wine. “Just mad fucking ginger cunts like you.”

“Growl all you want Houndy,” Tormund said smirking. “Your eyes tell me the truth. They’re no longer sad.”

“I must admit I never saw this,” Tyrion said still shocked. “But we must find happiness where we can.”

Jamie surprised everyone by beginning to laugh, “Now I see why you threatened to feed me to the dragons.”

Surprisingly conversation flowed easily between the former enemies. Sandor rolled his eyes when they knighted the big bitch, but he did tip his glass to her when she returned to the fire.

But as the night drew later, the conversation fell off and the wine ran out and they were treated to a song by Podrick. Sandor was surprised as hell at the boy, but Sansa didn’t seem surprised at the quality of his voice. In fact she smiled wildly when he was done.

“You’ve gotten better Podrick,” she said.

The poor boy blushed like a tomato.

“You knew he could sing like that?” Tyrion said with a raised eyebrow.

Sansa nodded.

“We talked about songs when you were in small council meetings my Lord,” Podrik said with a slight smile at Sansa. “Will you not sing Lady Sansa?” asked Podrick.

“I’m afraid I can only think of one song, and it is not a very happy one,” Sansa said.

“Sing Little Bird,” Sandor said quietly.

Sansa smiled at Sandor before opening her mouth and a haunting melody flowed out.

_"Home is behind the world ahead_

_And there are many paths to tread_

_Through shadow to the edge of night_

_Until the stars are all alight._

_Mist and shadow_

_Cloud and shade_

_All shall fade_

_All shall fade"_

 

As the last note faded, the bells began to sound.

“They’re here,” Tormund said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So personal headcannon, Podrick and Sansa used to sing together. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I was very disappointed that we did not see a Sandor and Sansa reunion in the first episode so I decided to finally join the band wagon of writing a SanSan reunion. First time attempting writing Game of Throne fanfic so let me know what you think!


End file.
